


Pierced by Melting Hope

by LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hypothermia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:43:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys/pseuds/LetsGoBeTheGoodGuys
Summary: For the second time that night, Sam picked Jack up and carried him. He slid one arm under Jack’s knees and wrapped the other behind the boy’s shoulders. The wind and cold made it difficult for Sam to stand with the burden of Jack’s body in his arms, but he managed to make it to his feet.[Basically the "Jack-gets-hypothermia-and-Sam-cuddles-him-for-warmth" fic no one asked for]
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jack Kline & Sam Winchester
Comments: 14
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

Sam sat next to Cas’ bed where the angel lay, too weak to even sit up. Sam had barely moved for hours. He and Dean had called Rowena for help and she had suggested a spell to try to reverse the effects of the curse. She didn’t think it would really work but, “You should try,” she had said quietly. Dean had left with a simple, “I’ll be right back. Stay with him.” Then he left to collect the ingredients for Rowena’s spell.

A few minutes ago, Dean had called to say that he couldn’t get what they needed. He was headed back to the bunker empty-handed.

Now there was nothing for Sam to do but watch the angel struggling to take full breaths. Jack had refused to leave Cas’ side for hours, but he was human now and he had eventually dozed off in his chair. Sam had carried the boy to his bed, carefully tucking the covers around the nephilim before returning to Cas’ room.

Cas was dying. They had tussled with a powerful witch and now he was dying. It wasn’t fair. Cas was an angel. He was supposed to be safe. Sam and Dean were supposed to die first. This wasn’t fair.

“Cas,” Sam said weakly, catching Cas’ blue-eyed gaze. “I wish I could trade places with you. I hate seeing you go through this.”

“Oh, Sam.” Cas’ voice was barely above a whisper. “How could you say that?” His eyes were pleading as he looked at Sam, even as they were beginning to glaze over from the curse that was killing him. “I couldn’t stand to lose you either.”

Sam turned away from Cas, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes. He took a shuddering breath. “I wish there was more we could have done. Maybe I missed something. Maybe I-”

Sam jumped a little when he felt fingers wrapping around his wrist. He dragged his gaze back to Cas’ face.

“Sam,” Cas’ voice was firmer than it had any right to be in his position. “You and… and Dean. I know you did everything you could. This is not on you.” His hand slipped away from Sam’s wrist.

Sam nodded mutely. It was killing him that Cas was being so strong. If Cas was fragile or scared, Sam would be able to comfort him. Sam would be strong because he had to be. But Cas wasn’t weak. He was as steady and strong as Dean’s heartbeat thudding against Sam’s cheek - a memory from the days when Sam used to sniffle against his brother’s chest after nightmares. Nothing was forcing Sam to fake strength that he wasn’t feeling. And right now, Sam was the furthest thing from strong.

There was silence for a few heartbeats before Cas said, “Sam, I need to tell you-”

“You don’t need to tell me anything,” Sam replied. “You’re gonna be fine.” Sam grimaced as the awareness of his own lie settled inside him.

Cas shook his head. He inhaled deeply. “You and Dean. And now Jack. You’ve made me so happy.”

Sam blinked back tears. This time he reached for Cas’ hand, draping his fingers over his friend’s.

“I’ve had a good life,” Cas said. “Because of all of you. I’m grateful.”

Sam shuddered as Cas’ eyes closed. He waited a few terrible heartbeats before he pressed his fingers against Cas’ neck. He felt nothing.

Cas was gone.

Sam sat alone in his heartbreak for several minutes, unable to cry, his breath coming in shallow gasps, before he finally stood. He needed to tell Dean and Jack.

“_No_." 

The unexpected voice startled Sam. He turned around and saw Jack standing in the doorway, staring in horror at Cas’ lifeless body on the bed.

"No,” Jack repeated, voice trembling. Sam felt his heart breaking all over again at the look on Jack’s face.

“Jack,” Sam said softly, approaching the boy slowly, an arm outstretched towards him. “Jack, I’m sorry.”

“No! You were supposed to save him!” Jack yelled, hands clenching into fists.

Sam felt the tears in his eyes threatening to fall but he blinked them back. He needed to take care of Jack. He could grieve later.

“I know. Jack, I - we did everything we could. Dean tried to get the ingredients for the spell. We were -” He put his hand on Jack’s shoulder but Jack yanked away from Sam, his face crumbling. Tears spilled freely down his cheeks. He made eye contact with Sam briefly and in that moment Sam almost wished he had been the one to die. Anything to avoid seeing that look in Jack’s eyes. Then Jack turned away, leaving Sam alone in the room. Sam let him leave. He didn’t know what to say to Jack right now and he knew he should call Dean.

The thought of telling Dean that Cas was gone made Sam feel light-headed, unsteady. Sam could already feel his brother blaming himself for the angel’s death. Dean hadn’t been able to get what they needed for the spell. There was nothing more he could have done. The spell had been a long-shot from the beginning. Sam guessed that he and Dean had both had a feeling it wasn’t going to work. But they had to try.

“At least I should be with him when he dies,” Dean had said over the phone to Sam, voice cracking dangerously. But just in case, Sam had pressed the phone into Cas’ hand and let him talk to Dean. He’d had a sinking feeling that it was going to be their last chance. More than a feeling. He had known, really, that Cas wouldn’t last until Dean made it back to the bunker. And he had been right.

Sam sighed and turned back to look at Cas’ body.

“Cas,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry.” The tears returned to his eyes and Sam didn’t force them back this time.


	2. Chapter 2

The phone call with Dean was as terrible as Sam had imagined it would be. Dean was angry at first. And then he broke. His voice shook as he asked if Cas had said anything before he died. “He, uh -” Sam took a deep breath. “He said he had a good life, Dean. He said we had made him happy.” The words came out in a rush. Sam was trying to get it all out before he started crying again. There was silence for awhile on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. They had both known the chance of saving Cas was almost nonexistent. But they also knew there was no chance they would give up.

Sam heard Dean clear his throat. “How did the kid take it?”

Sam sighed. The memory of Jack’s anguished face returned to the front of his mind. “It was rough, Dean. He took off to his room. I need to go check on him.”

“Okay, Sammy. I think… I think that would be good. He shouldn’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed. “Drive carefully, okay? It’s icy.”

“…right.”

Sam was sure Dean was going to pull to the side of the road for awhile, anyway. He didn’t like to cry in front of anyone.

After the phone call ended, Sam pressed his cellphone against his forehead until it hurt. He didn’t know what he was going to say to Jack. He and Dean had lost so many people. They had even lost Cas before. More than once. But it never hurt any less. Jack… Jack was just a kid. But at least he didn’t have to be alone. Sam could be there for him.

Sam hauled himself onto shaky legs and headed for Jack’s room, right next to his own. Jack’s door was closed. Sam took a deep breath and knocked. There was no answer. “Jack?” Sam called. More silence.

Sam frowned. He tested the handle and the door swung open. Sam scanned the room, but Jack wasn’t inside. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Sam headed to the kitchen. No Jack. Sam picked up his pace as he began checking other rooms in the bunker, calling Jack’s name repeatedly. Not in the library. Not in the war room. The garage. Sam even checked his and Dean’s rooms. No Jack. Sam started to grow worried. Where would he have gone? 

A thought struck Sam. _Cas_. Jack must have gone to say goodbye. Sam hurried to Cas’ room. But the room was empty and disturbingly still. Cas’ body was still— Sam turned away quickly. He needed to stay level-headed. He needed to find their kid.

Sam tried to force himself to be rational even as panic was starting to build in his chest. Would Jack have gone outside? Surely not, it was freezing out there. All of the cars were still in the garage and Jack would have nowhere to go. But where else could he be?

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. The thought that Jack could have possibly gone outside tickled at the back of Sam’s mind. But it was the middle of the night. In the middle of December. It couldn’t be more than 15 degrees outside. And it was windy. How long had it been since Sam had last seen Jack? How long does it take to get frostbite? Did he take a coat? Jack was a smart kid. He wouldn’t have just left on his own. Without his powers, he would have no protection from the cold. But the image of Jack shivering in the frigid winter air was in Sam’s head and he couldn’t shake it loose. He had to check.

Sam grabbed his coat from where he had left it on the war room table and shrugged it on as he ran up the stairs and out of the bunker. As soon as Sam opened the door leading outside, he felt an icy blast of wind hit his face. His eyes began watering against the sting. The idea of Jack being out in these conditions made a knot of fear settle in Sam’s stomach. Sam found himself praying that Jack would be okay - though he didn’t know who he was praying to.

Sam started walking down the road, unsure of where to look. “Jack?” Sam called the boy’s name, but the wind stole the word from him and carried it away. There was no chance of Jack hearing him if he had gone very far. Sam mentally scolded himself for leaving Jack alone. He should have known better. He should have been there for him. 

Sam hadn’t gone very far when he saw a figure huddling against a tree. _Jack_. Sam ran to the boy’s side and dropped down next to him. It was pretty dark out, but Sam could see Jack shivering. The boy was sitting on the ground, knees to his chest, arms crossed tightly. He was only wearing the jeans and sweatshirt he had been in when Sam had tucked him into bed a few hours ago.

Dean’s voice from the training sessions of their childhood came to Sam’s mind. _“Hypothermia can kill quick, Sammy. If someone’s been out in the cold for too long and they ain’t shivering - that’s when you really need to be worried.” _Jack was shivering. That was good.

Jack looked up. “Sam?” His voice was shaky and quiet.

“Jack, hey, hey,” Sam soothed. He had already slipped his coat off and he helped Jack lean forward so he could wrap the coat around the boy’s shaking shoulders. “I gotcha, I gotcha.”

Jack’s lips were moving and Sam leaned close to catch his whispered words. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, c’mon,” Sam said. He was shivering pretty violently now himself. He needed to get them back to the bunker. “Can you stand?”

Jack didn’t move so Sam slipped an arm under Jack’s, supporting the boy against his shoulder. Sam stood slowly but Jack’s legs seemed to buckle and Sam struggled to hold him up. He took a couple of steps forward but he was practically dragging Jack along with him so he lowered the boy back to the ground.

For the second time that night, Sam picked Jack up and carried him. He slid one arm under Jack’s knees and wrapped the other behind the boy’s shoulders. The wind and cold made it difficult for Sam to stand with the burden of Jack’s body in his arms, but he managed to make it to his feet.

As he walked back to the bunker, Sam held on tight to Jack, making sure the boy hadn’t stopped shivering. “It’s okay, Jack. It’s okay,” Sam kept saying the same words over and over. Jack’s eyes were shut tightly against the wind. He was quiet.

Sam barely managed to open the door of the bunker, and when he did, the building’s heat almost seemed too hot to him. He was really struggling with Jack’s weight now and he leaned against the wall a couple of times on the way down the stairs. But he didn’t set Jack down until he made it to the boy’s room. Then he lowered Jack down onto the bed. In the light from the bedside lamp, Sam could see how bright red Jack’s cheeks were.

“Jack, can you look at me? C'mon, buddy.” As he spoke, Sam was rearranging Jack, pulling the sheet and blankets up tight around him, Sam’s coat still around his slim shoulders. Jack’s breathing was shallow and his eyes stayed closed. Sam placed a hand against Jack’s cheek, frowning at the sting of the cold against his palm. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

Sam went to the bathroom and ran the water hot, rinsing a washcloth under the stream. He hurried back to Jack’s room with the washcloth. He sat on the bed next to Jack and pressed the hot cloth against Jack’s reddened cheek, dabbing it gently against the frost-nipped skin. He moved the cloth all over Jack’s cheeks. Sam couldn’t seem to stop talking, muttering mostly nonsense to Jack, “It’s okay. You’re fine. Can you open your eyes for me? We just gotta get you warmed up. You’ll be okay.”

Now that Jack was safely back inside, Sam felt adrenaline melting away from him. Now he realized how tired he was. And he felt very alone. He wished Dean were with him. And he wished Jack would wake up. Sam was sure that Jack was going to be alright now, but it was harder to be completely sure with Jack so still and unresponsive under his hands.

The cloth was getting cool in Sam’s hand so he set it on the nightstand. “I’m gonna get another blanket, okay, Jack?”

Sam went to his room and pulled the blanket off of his bed, wadding it up tightly in his arms. When he made it back to Jack’s room, Jack was sitting up. He looked confused.

“Jack, hey.” Sam practically ran to Jack’s side, sitting back on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Jack’s eyes were a little clouded. “I’m cold,” he answered simply. His voice sounded so young.

Sam let out a humorless laugh. He was so relieved to hear Jack’s voice that he thought might cry. He moved on instinct, lifting the covers and slipping underneath them to sit right next to Jack. He arranged the blanket he had brought from his room over both of them. Then he wrapped his arms around Jack. Jack immediately tucked his head against Sam’s shoulder. His hair was messy from the wind and it tickled against Sam’s neck. One of Jack’s hands rested on one of Sam’s.

“You’re cold too,” Jack said. He drummed his fingers against Sam’s.

“Yeah,” Sam said, dancing his fingers underneath Jack’s. He hadn’t even realized how cold he still was until he had slid under the blankets with Jack.

Jack was quiet for a moment before finally saying, “I’m sorry I went outside, Sam. It was stupid.”

Sam felt guilt tugging at his heart. He sighed. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Jack angled his head, shifting around until he could look up at Sam. But he didn’t say anything, he just held Sam’s gaze. Sam wondered what Jack was thinking behind those reflective eyes.

Finally, Sam couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Why did you go out?” he asked softly.

Jack looked away from Sam again, but he burrowed in closer to Sam’s side. Sam felt himself melting. This kind of intimacy seemed so natural to Jack. As if there was no question in his mind that Sam would hold him like this, for whatever reason. The amount of trust Jack placed in him almost scared Sam. And he hadn’t been there when Jack needed him.

“When I saw that Cas was dead,” Jack said, “I wanted to disappear. When I had my powers, I could do that. I would just wish myself away, and I would be somewhere else. I was so sad and so frustrated that I couldn’t disappear that I just wanted to run.”

Sam nodded, knowing Jack would feel the motion. "I was worried," Sam said. He didn't really know what else to say.

"I know," Jack said. He was still for a moment. He closed his eyes before saying, "I'm sorry for yelling at you."

"It okay, Jack," Sam said. "This is hard for all of us."

"You and Dean can fix it, right?" Jack's voice was growing quieter. Sam shifted, sliding them both lower so that Jack would be able to fall asleep more comfortably.

"We'll do everything we can," Sam promised.

Jack was quiet after that. Sam felt the boy's breathing steady as he fell asleep.

Sam looked down at Jack's peaceful face. His cheeks were still pink from the cold, and his hair was ratty. Sam let himself rest his cheek on the top of Jack's hair. He hoped Dean would be back soon. Sam needed to hear Dean say that they could fix it. 

Sam felt himself beginning to doze off. His mind was wandering. Sam had never really thought that he had the same paternal instincts that Dean had. But having Jack in his life had changed that. Sam knew he would do anything - would live or die - for the boy sleeping in his arms. He pulled Jack impossibly closer. "I've got you, Jack," he whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam woke to the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw the familiar green eyes of his brother. Dean was standing next to the bed, gaze scanning over the scene in front of him.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice a gruff whisper. His eyes were illuminated softly in the light from the hallway. He looked exhausted.

“Hey,” Sam whispered back.

Dean sat on the bed next to Sam’s legs, facing him. He looked at Jack, who was still in the same position he had fallen asleep in - pressed closely against Sam. “How is he?” Dean asked.

Sam sighed. He looked down at Jack, studying the boy’s face. He looked so peaceful now that he was deeply asleep.

“I think he’s gonna be okay,” Sam said, not quite sure if his own words were true. But having Dean there made it a little easier for Sam to believe that Jack would be okay - that Sam himself would be okay.

“Dean, I didn’t look out for him the way I should have. After Cas…” Sam stopped. He looked at Dean - watched his throat work with emotion before he nodded for Sam to continue. “Jack, uh, he ran out into the cold. He didn’t even have a coat on.”

Dean raised an eyebrow, but he stayed quiet, clearly waiting for Sam to keep talking.

“When I brought him back, he said he had wanted to sort of vamp away like he used to. To escape, y'know?”

Dean huffed quietly. His gaze returned to Jack. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” Dean said. Absently he reached a hand out and pushed it through Jack’s hair, fingers gently untangling the knots he encountered. Sam felt warmth run through him as he recognized Dean’s gesture from his own childhood. Memories flooded his mind - images of a much younger Dean stroking his hair distractedly as Sam would tell him about a bad experience he had at school or a nightmare that had left him shaking. Dean’s gaze as he looked at Jack was open and vulnerable, sorrowful but fond. Sam didn’t see that look often, but he recognized it easily, the way he always recognized Dean’s different expressions. Because it was his big brother. Because it was _Dean_.

Dean let his hand fall away from Jack, his knuckles brushing gently against the boy’s cheek before his hand dropped on to the blanket, resting on Sam’s knee. Dean turned his gaze to Sam. As Dean looked at him, allowing his vulnerability to show, Sam became overwhelmed by the comfort of both Jack’s and Dean’s nearness. He had Jack resting snugly against him, he could feel the boy’s chest rising and falling with his steady breaths. And Dean was near enough to touch him, holding Sam’s eye contact without flinching.

Sam and Dean had grieved over shared losses many times. But they rarely comforted each other with physical closeness for long. A quick hug or a shoulder squeeze was often all that was allowed. The amount of warmth surrounding Sam from his brother and the child they were raising overwhelmed him. It was a little unfamiliar. But it felt safe. And Sam didn’t want to let go of that feeling. He couldn’t stand the thought of being alone in his grief again.

“What are we gonna do?” Sam finally asked, reluctant to break the quiet but desperate for Dean’s reassurance.

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But we’ll figure something out.”

Sam nodded. He could remember, in his very earliest memories, wondering if the sun would even rise or set if Dean wasn’t there. Back then, Sam hadn’t known what a world looked like without his brother right next to him. Since then, he had lived in that lonely world - had fought against that reality time and again - and escaped it. Sam found himself thinking that he had been right as a child. His world without Dean in it was dark, sunless, without hope.

As if he was reading Sam’s thoughts in his eyes, Dean smirked a little. He patted Sam’s neck and stood. 

“I’m gonna try to sleep,” Dean said. “Are you gonna stay in here?”

Sam didn’t even think for a second. “Yeah, I don’t want to leave him alone.”

“Okay,” Dean replied. “That’s good, Sammy.”

“Are you gonna be okay?” Sam asked.

“I always am,” Dean replied. He walked to the door, but turned to look at Sam and Jack, lingering in the doorway for a moment. His voice was somehow gentler, younger-sounding as he said, “Everything’s gonna be fine, Sam. We’ll fix this.”

And Sam believed him. 


End file.
